Stay Over
by StoryCurrentlyUntitled
Summary: Mary gets in a fight with Brandi over their mother and how long she will stay sober. After a call from Brandi while Mary's at work, Marshall offers Mary a place to hang out for the night. M&M please R&R but no flames. Thanks to all my reviewers!
1. Chapter 1

**My second In Plain Sight fic. This time I'm putting in some of the other characters, just for good measure. Let's see how you all like it. Please read and review! I like to hear my readers thoughts, so tell me what you think please. No flames. Constructive criticism, nice comments, positive feedback and I'm thinking of possibly making this a two-shot or writing another short follow up story to it, so tell me what you think if you want to hear more.**

**I am sorry for any OOCness. I absolutely hate it when I write them out of character. Mary's mother is a little strange since she came back from rehab, so I didn't know what to so with her, but I tried my best.**

She kicks off her sandals and falls onto the couch with a heavy sigh. "It's starting to sink in," Her mother says from the corner and both Mary and Brandi look up at the woman. "I'm finally starting to enjoy being sober. It's...nice." Her mother had been a bit out there since her return from rehab but out of all the things that Mary had heard her say, this one is actually quite humorous. She's never going to last more than a week, a month, tops, if she's really going to attempt. Mary snorts and both gazes snap to her.

"What was that for?" Jinx Shannon questions. Now, Mary doesn't mind butting heads with anyone, especially not her own mother. Hell, they would fight almost every day of the week before she went to the rehab. But now, not really knowing how to relate to Jinx, Mary has been treating these situations with delicacy. Brandi's eyes fall onto her sister, looking ready to come to her mother's defense if they were all about to go at it. But, to Mary's relief, her phone goes off just in time. Getting to her feet, she's knows full well that it's about the meeting set to start in about twenty minutes. Perfect timing.

"I know, meeting's in twenty. Yeah, I'm just leaving now. I'll see you there." Disconnecting the call, she eyes the other two women carefully and then shoves the phone in her pocket. "Sorry, I'd love to stay and finish this stimulating conversation, but I gotta get going...meeting tonight."

The blond woman walks into her room and grabs up her jacket and the gun under her mattress to shove into her ankle holster. Someone taps her shoulder and Mary spins around, hand on her gun all ready, only to come face to face with Brandi. Rolling her eyes, the Marshal sighs at her sister. "Squish, in case you didn't know, sneaking up on me when I've got a gun is probably not the most intelligent thing you could do."

"Mary, what was that all about?"

The older woman squints, trying to play dumb. "What was what all about?"

Her arms cross on her chest as Brandi glares up at her older sister. "Mom's trying her hardest. What was that smart-ass little snort for?"

Mary's one hand falls to her hip. She hadn't planned on this conversation but Brandi is pissing her off more and more by the second, plus, she was the one who asked for it. "Oh please Brandi, you and I both know that mom will never make it a month until she is drinking again, and that's if she's actually trying."

Her sister rolls her eyes at her statement. "What if she _is_ actually trying, smart-ass?"

Mary's eyes widen in disbelieve as she usual ghost of a smile passes over her face. "She's not."

Brandi sounds a bit whiny now. "How would you know she's not?"

Mary's annoyed eyes meet Brandi's impatient ones. "She's not."

Both women stand still for a few seconds. Brandi clears her throat. "You're going to have to give me better than that."

"No I don't," Mary shoots back childishly. "She's been drinking our whole lives. It's not changing squish. She'll last a couple weeks at most and then one day, we'll come home and she'll be passed out in the living room of Barbie's Dream House with the bottle almost lodged in her throat."

Now, things like that are just uncalled for. _There's no reason to be treating mom like this. She can change._ "Why do you start out assuming that she's going to let you down? In fact, you do that with _everyone_. Isn't it time you gave people a chance?"

Her arms crossed over her chest, Mary's eyes never stray once from her sister's. Those words had absolutely no truth to them. None, whatsoever. Brandi has no right to speak this way to her anyway, with everything that she's recently done to screw up Mary's life, not to mention her own. "I don't have time for this. I have somewhere to be. This conversation ends now."

Mary stalks toward the door, Brandi moving into the room behind her and putting her hands into her jeans pockets. "Yeah, that's how it always is. You always make your way out before actually discussing any real problems."

Whirling around to face her sister, Mary is fuming. "Right now the only _real problem _is you. Just go back to being a failure at life and leave me alone." Saying no more and not giving Brandi a chance to respond, Mary slams the door on her way out.

She hops into her hunk-of-junk car and slams that door shut too, instantly regretting it knowing that the thing is about ready to fall apart anyway. Damn Brandi. _I know exactly what will happen. Brandi just doesn't want to believe it because she wants mom to stop drinking. _But Jinx Shannon would eventually go back to the bottle, too weak or too stupid to just commit to something and see it all the way through. When she turns the key she only gets a whirring sound for a moment. Just great. How would she ever make it in time now that Brandi had wasted five minutes of her life defending the fact that Jinx was trying to do something she would eventually give up on anyway? She turns the key again and eventually, with some cussing and persuasion, the car sputters to a start. She grabs the wheel and backs out of the driveway, making tracks toward the office.

How could Brandi even say things like that to her? What's more, how the hell could she actually believe in that load of garbage that she was spewing? How could anyone be so naive? Their mom is an alcoholic, through and through and she always will be. There is nothing that can be done on this earth that will change that fact. Mary could tell her all the stories that their mom never did from when they were kids and Jinx had been too sloshed to do anything so Mary had to. Yeah, there were all those times that Brandi, at her current age, still did not know of. So where did she get this idea that Jinx wouldn't drink again and why would she defend her without even asking one question first?

Oh well, Mary would have to worry about that later because right now, she is at the office and is all ready late for the meeting with the witness. Andy had currently been having problems with his landlord and was looking to move into a house of his own. Mary and Marshall had set up this meeting tonight with him to discuss his options and see where he actually stood, since they had not spoken since he was last relocated.

Mary places her files down on the desk, all eyes in the room trained on her. She looks around, all ready in a bad mood. "What?"

Marshall looks down at his watch. "You're late."

Mary shrugs. "I'm not always on time. I am human, though it may be hard for you all to wrap your minds around that concept." She sits, Stan now trying to avoid whatever was bothering his Marshal, and focusing on the moving paperwork in front of him. However, Marshall's not playing it as safe this time. He'd normally wait it out like everyone else, but he knows that something is really bothering _his girl _right now.

"Something bothering you?" Even knowing that he only wants to help her doesn't matter. She's too pissed off to care if he's trying to help or not. Right now, she'd rather not discuss it anyway.

Glaring, she places both hands on the table, extending them in his direction as if to say, "Back off or else." But what comes out instead is a very blunt and quiet: "No."

The two Marshals look at each other for a moment, Marshall confused at the bad mood and concerned for her and Mary just wanting him to shut up and leave it alone. He finally shrugs, breaking the stare. "If you say so."

Mary nods, then turns and looks at Andy. "So, Andy, I guess we're going to move you again huh? Anywhere in particular you have in mind this time? How about the Florida Keys? Yeah, we'll put you up in a nice condominium with a pool and a pretty view of the ocean..."

Andy just eyes her cautiously, his one hand tightening nervously in place over the other. "Um, well...just a house..." But Stan cuts him off, essentially saving him from Mary's venomous banter.

"So then, Andy...you're absolutely sure this is what you want to do?"

Andy nods and then Marshall chimes in as well. "You've been moved a lot in the last couple of months. Moving again is going to be pretty hectic."

Shaking his head, the former witness makes his reply. "I just don't want to have a landlord. I want to move into my own house with my wife and baby, when he's born."

They had reconciled since Mary had last talked to him, she presumed. "Well then, let's get this fun process started, shall we?" Her voice is sarcastic, like it usually is but they all know this isn't her usual bad mood. This is way worse than her usual bad mood.

After the meeting, Stan leaves with Andy to take him back to his apartment. Mary and Marshall sit at their desks doing paperwork.

"So," He holds his hands out to his sides in question. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you or what?"

She looks up at him, a fake smile plastered on her face. "What do you think?"

He sighs. "So it's a no, all around huh?"

She nods at him. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Okay then, I'll guess..."

Mary simply resumes gazing at the seemingly endless pile of paperwork sitting on her desk before her. Her cell phone suddenly rings. Stupidly, she just answers and doesn't check the caller ID.

By half way through the conversation she all ready has her hand on her forehead. Marshall can tell this is either her mother or her sister, one of them in some kind of crisis. By the end of the conversation Mary is so frustrated that she just hangs up on the caller and then folds her arms and puts her head down on the papers, cussing.

"Jinx?" Marshall asks.

She picks her head up to look at him, one of the top papers sticking to her skin. Laughing slightly, Marshall points at her forehead. "You've got some paper stuck to you there."

Peeling it off, she about rips it in half and then throws it on the floor. "Thanks for letting me know that, since I obviously hadn't known it was there."

He shrugs, smirking. "Happy I was able to make you aware,"

Mary nods. "That was Squish. We got in a fight before I left and after that she must have told mom about it because now I hear she's sitting at home bawling her eyes out because I don't believe in her or something like that."

Marshall only nods at his partner's words. She adds this. "My family is so screwed up, I swear to god."

"That fact stands undisputed," Marshall adds, smiling at her.

She just continues to stare, her gaze bleary. "I'm just worn out. I couldn't give a rat's ass if she thinks I believe in her or not. She's been just a joy to have around these past few days, spacing out, looking all cloudy…looking lost. But for her to be sitting at home, crying? Jesus Marshall...I just...just..." She trails off here, he gets her point.

"No need to elaborate Mare," The man stands now, walking over to her desk and leaning onto it. She watches him carefully. "Why not come back to my place for a while? You clearly don't want to go home and I can't really blame you there."

Her eyes fill with shock. It's very occasional that they visit one another's houses though each of them knew they were always welcome. It's just not a scenario that typically comes up. It's only on holidays or late nights back from relocating witnesses. But for him, for her partner…her Marshall to suddenly just ask her to come over like this is certainly something she needs time to adjust to the idea of. For a moment the office is quiet, both of them just looking at staring quietly at the other. Marshall awaits her reaction.


	2. Chapter 2

**In this chapter I'm kinda fudging it on the details of Marshall's house. I never have actually seen it, so I don't really know. I always have pictured he lives in a ranch style home for some reason. Again, I apologize for any OOCness. I tried my bestest. R&R please. Thank you to all of my readers who left reviews. I really do appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you all think. Thanks so much.**

"Are you nuts?" Quips Mary, leaning in toward her partner. He had just asked her to come over to his home for absolutely no reason at all. Of course, the opportunity to not have to go back to her own house is one that right now she's very eager to take. But she wants to understand his reasoning.

"Sometimes I believe so," He returns, making Mary smirk at him. "But not at this particular time. I thought you could use a break and since it's late, you'd appreciate a fellow Marshal's offer of comfortable lodgings for the night."

Her eyes flick over the man for a second, in consideration. Finally, Mary simply shrugs and turns back to her paperwork, attempting to move on to the next item. Not finding what she's looking for right off, she begins to sift through the piles.

Marshall stands straight again. "So I guess I can take that shrug as a yes?"

She grins sardonically, still looking through the papers. "Yeah, smart-ass, you could say that." Ignoring her jibe, he goes back and sits, watching her with a knowing smile on his face.

"Damn it, where's it at?" She asks herself, moving to the other stack of papers.

Marshall chuckles and her gaze snaps to him.

"What was that?"

He shrugs, his fingers laced together. "A laugh, you might not recognize it only because you have no sense of humor but people laugh when they find something humorous."

She blinks a few times and leans forward. "You wanna see my sense of humor? Keep talking asshole."

Apparently not caring that she's serious, he grins at her and then sets back to work. "I believe that the paper in question is on the floor. You threw it when you got off the phone."

Her eyes travel over toward the direction in which she remembers throwing the paper. Sure enough, there it is, lying in between their two desks. Rolling her eyes, she gets up and walks over, bending down to get it. She notices Marshall glance over at her and as she stands back up, she throws her pen at him, hitting him squarely between the eyes. "God, hormones, how old are you? Fifteen?"

He shrugs, holding up his hands. "What? I'm a guy, its normal."

She takes her seat again. "Well you better un-normal it."

Silence. Funny, she had expected to get something in return for that one. These banters were always fun. "What? No: 'It's what we do,' or anything?"

"Nope." Their eyes meet, Marshall grinning mischievously and Mary looking disgusted.

She hadn't heard what she wanted. "Come on, there must be something whirling around up in that Encyclopedia, Webster."

No response at first.

"Well," It comes only after a minute or so of silence. "A few seconds ago you did tell me to shut up." He flicks on the radio, currently playing an old Temptations song.

"I actually told you not to keep saying what you were saying. There's a difference."

He doesn't answer again they return to their paperwork in silence.

Stan walks in to see his two Marshals sitting at their desks, working. Not bickering. Not fighting. Not trying to kill one another or Mary and Marshall stealing each other's dinner of takeout. They are simply sitting at their desks, Mary finishing the last of her pile of papers and Marshall on his computer, most likely looking for available houses in Andy's price range. Certainly, this couldn't mean anything good. He slides his badge at the gate, letting himself through and standing beside Marshall's desk. Neither of Stan's people looks up. He clears his throat. Marshall's eyes turn up to look at the man while Mary's eyes flick to him for a moment and then return to the last paper. She wants to finish.

"What's up Stan?" Marshall asks, looking over to make sure Mary isn't going to greet him.

Stan purses his lip. "I was about to ask that. What are you two doing?"

Looking confused, Marshall glances at his computer screen and then back at his boss. "Our jobs, I do believe."

Stan is impressed. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. No fighting, no bickering, nothing is broken. Usually everything has gone to hell by the time I get back after you two have been here alone."

Marshall places his hands behind his head and leans back in his chair. "Mare, Stan seems to think that we're just idiots that never get any work done and are always fighting."

Mary looks up at her partner and shrugs. "That about sums it up, I think."

Feigning being shocked, the marshal sits upright once more and looks between his coworkers. "I think I get a lot done in a day."

Stan smiles at him and Mary just makes a face. "Yeah right."

He shrugs, helpless. "I do."

Mary laughs, finally putting her pen down. "Let's get outta here. It's late."

Marshall stands, shutting down his computer and following her out the door, past Stan who has lowered his head. _Why? Why the hell did I say anything? The office was at peace for once..._

"See you tomorrow Stan," Marshall calls and Stan raises his hand to return the goodbye, Mary smiling.

Marshall takes her in his car, leaving her crappy, metal death-trap at the office for the night. He pulls out, Mary looking at him. "So, why'd you really want to take me back to your place tonight?"

He glances at his partner, then turns back to the road. "Well, I secretly was planning to seduce you so I'm going to take you back to my house and then-"

"And then I kick your ass..." Mary quips, and Marshall smirks.

"Dually noted."

She gives him a small, genuine smile. "You're gonna order in something to eat right? I'm starved!"

He shrugs at her. "If that's what you want. I have food in my house you know."

She eyes him. "Oh you do?"

He nods. "Yup."

"And here I thought you lived strictly on the U.S. Marshal's diet of either not eating or ordering take out."

He chuckles. "I know what a balanced diet consists of and I try to stick to one."

She grins sarcastically. "Well I do know what a balanced diet is too, thanks, I just don't have the time to try and stick to one." He grins back at her, amused at the way she had scrunched up her nose at the word "time." That's his Mary. Always, no matter what, _always_ pressed for time.

She looks out the window at something that only she knows is there while Marshall is left to a tiny sliver of quiet thought. She is soon turned back to him however, breaking the silence. "So, what did you really want?"

He smiles a bit awkwardly, making Mary curious. "I didn't want anything Mare. I thought _you _needed a night off and offering to pay for a hotel suite would be a little out of my budget so I opted for a cheaper method of pleasing you this evening." Marshall pulls into his garage, attached to the small ranch style house.

"God Marshall, always eager to please, aren't we?"

He shifts it into park, turning it off and looking at her seriously. "Always."

She smiles softly back at him as they get out. The drive had been very short, only lasting about ten minutes.

"Nice," She says, walking into the small foyer and taking off her shoes, just to get out of them. Marshall takes off his coat and hangs it up, holding out his hand to take Mary's coat from her. She pulls the thing off, thrusting it into his hand and going to the couch, falling back on it lazily.

"Make yourself at home," Marshall walks over beside her as she gives him a thumbs up.

Her stomach growls. "How about that food? I was promised food right? Or was that my imagination?"

He looks into his kitchen and then back at her, standing. "Must have been your imagination. Anyway, pasta sound okay? I could make spaghetti."

She shrugs. "Sure. Sounds good. You want any help?"

Shaking his head, he turns away from her. "It's all good. I think I can handle it. You just watch some T.V. or something. It'll be done in about fifteen or twenty, okay?" She nods, laying her head back on the armrest and closing her eyes and he walks into the kitchen.

She soon hears the radio playing from the kitchen. He apparently works better to music. _He likes oldies and country the most._ She recalls, watching as he cooks the meal from where she lays. It feels weird to just lie still and relax while someone else is doing all the work. In the back of her mind, she feels remotely bad for making him do this, not even knowing what kind of day he had so far today. The other, more true to her own nature part of her mind doesn't really care. All she wants to do is sleep. Or run away. Yeah, just her and Marshall. We could go for a weekend to Vegas or something like that and play the slots for like thirteen hours then pass out in some cheap, crappy motel room along I99. _Sounds like a fun time to me._ _He could use a break too I'll bet. _

She stands and walks into the kitchen, leaning onto the counter beside him. Turning over his shoulder, he grins at her. His shirt is now unbuttoned at the top. He had probably undone it when he started cooking, knowing that he'd get hot. She glances to the pot of boiling pasta and then back at him. "Almost done, Emeril?"

He chuckles. "Yeah, almost done."

"Want me to mix the sauce?"

He looks at her. "Two offers to help in the same night and both directed at me? Who are you?"

"Ha ha, you're funny. I don't have to help." Mary's arms are already crossed.

He nods. "No, you don't."

She puts her hands on her hips now, an almost trademark, "I'm pissed off at you." stance of hers that he knows quite well. "Now you're just being difficult. Stop playing games and give me that damn pan."

Chuckling at her antics he sidesteps, allowing her room to access the flat pan in which the sauce is cooking away. She stirs, immediately admiring how he is able to keep it thick and keep watching the pasta as well. Marshall not only has the knowledge of culinary arts, he knows how to use it as well. Just like everything else he knows about and is somehow able to do. For as much as he annoys her most of the time, she can at least give him that. He's good at so many things.

She shakes her head, looking at the pan as she realizes that it's time to turn it off. "Hey Jeeves, is that pasta all most done over there?"

Nodding, he turns to her. "Two minutes. I'll get plates." Moving to one side, he opens a floor cabinet, pulling out two plates. He places them onto the counter and then leans over to her. "Grab the silverware out of the drawer to your left there." She reaches in and pulls out two forks and two spoons.

"Hand me the pepper?" He asks, reaching out.

She puts some on her own and then hands it over. "Thanks for all this."

He shakes his head. "I'm your friend Mare, you don't need to thank me."

She nods back at him, placing her hand, inadvertently over his. "Yeah, for once, I should. You do a lot for me. Thanks."

He grins shyly, not used to her saying things like this. Not like she never says those words, but they're always rushed or tired sounding. She sounds nothing but genuinely grateful right now. "You're welcome Mare. It's nothing really."

"No, it's a big deal. Just shut up and don't say that anymore."

Holding up his hands, he surrenders. "Okay, okay. Just finish eating, then we'll watch a movie or some T.V." She nods at this.

He washes up the dishes after, she collects the remaining items from the table. "We're_ not _watching Back to the Future or Clueless. You got that?"

He shrugs. "Well, there goes my evening."

She smiles at him. "Aw, I feel so bad..."

"And now she shows her true colors once more. I knew the compliments, offers of assistance and thank yous would not last all that long. Anyway, I'm sure you do. But no chick flicks either."

She makes a face. "What do you care? You've probably seen most of them."

He moves toward her, taking on a challenging position. "I haven't actually."

Her hands are on her hips again. "Oh really? Prove it. Best date movie!"

He backs away. "I'm am not getting into a movie debate with you Mare. Let's just pick something that's on mutual ground..." He smiles at her, knowing full well that she will not back down from his challenge.

"I guess that you just don't think you know chick flicks as well as I do."

"That's right," He quips. "I know movies way better than you. Don't even try."

Mary knows what she's getting herself into. She knows that her partner is basically a walking encyclopedia. This is probably a challenge that Mary will lose. But Mary Shannon has never been one to back down from a challenge and if she's going to lose, she's going to lose at least trying, not by forfeit. She has to at least try. How then, would she be able to call herself Mary if she gave up?

"Don't challenge me if you can't back it up. Come on, best date movie, and I mean from this century."

He finally nods. "I believe it was..._Forgetting Sarah Marshall_...or something to that effect."

They take a seat on the couch, Marshall unbuttoning another of the buttons on his shirt, getting ready to unwind in front of the T.V. for a while. Mary lets her hair down out of her ponytail. "Best action movie," He states.

"Oh, you're trying to scare me with that one."

He places his hands behind his head. "Are you afraid yet?"

"_Righteous Kill_. Al Pacino, Robert De Niro and a whole lot of dead bad guys."

His eyebrows raised, Marshall leans forward. "I'm proud grasshopper."

"For two weeks it was the only damn commercial on T.V. at night. Best chick flick."

Marshall shakes his head. "Right to the point huh?"

"You know me, I don't beat around the bush."

He turns on the T.V. "_Bride Wars_."

She puts her feet up on the couch and leans back against the armrest again. "Oh, burn."

"Okay, so...what do you want to watch?" S

he shrugs. "Well, there's never going to be an agreement on a movie is there?"

He shakes his head. "Not as far as I can tell."

She purses her lips and closes her eyes. "Then anything but _Discovery_ or _History_."

As he flicks through the channels it eventually comes to some sort of a game show, taking place in a taxi cab.

Mary looks over at the T.V. "I've never heard of this before."

Nodding, Marshall throws his arms up over the back of the couch. "I think this is called _Cash Cab_, but I've never seen it played before."

She moves toward Marshall now, finding comfort somehow, in laying her head on his shoulder. She'd never realized how much she could relax when she is with Marshall until just now. Sure, she knows that she is just a tiny bit nicer to her partner and that they trust each other with their lives, but trusting him with her emotions? She had never dreamed of the day when she'd entrust that to anyone. When she was young and naive, she used to picture it'd be her life partner that she'd share this kind of trust with, not her working partner. But then, Marshall and Mary seem to have that same dynamic. When you think about it, they do understand one another more than anyone and they stand by each other when forced into tough situations. Like the Horst situation in that decrepit old diner in the middle of nowhere. Or like the kiss she had feigned saving Treena from diamond smugglers. When it boiled down to it, their adventures were weird, but they always had each other's backs.

He stiffens for a moment before putting an arm around her, trying to be comforting. How long has it been now since he's felt this way? This insatiable pull...this love. How long? He doesn't even know. Sometime in the past years, he had fallen and fallen hard. There is not one thing that he wouldn't do for Mary. He takes his comfort in knowing that though she might not return his feelings right now, it's the same for Mary. Despite all of her quirks and joking, at the end of the day she will do anything for him as well. The feeling is mutual as far as wanting to do right by him. That's all he needs from her, for the time being.

The room is silent for a while. He assumes that Mary has finally fallen asleep and turns the T.V. down a bit, going and getting changed for bed. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving him in only a pair of boxer shorts and a white wife beater. Since it's a little cold though, he opts to put on a long pair of pants and a tee shirt. Pulling the other clothes off his bed, he throws them in the laundry hamper in his closet.

When he turns to the door, there stands Mary, about to knock, though it's half opened all ready. "Hey, where am I at tonight?"

He swallows the lump in his throat. How long had she just been standing there? Oh, who cares? He is acting like some kid, falling in love for the first time. "Uh, the uh...guest room...it's just down the hall. Come on."

She nods and follows beside him, stopping in front of the same door he stops at. She sidesteps a bit and he pushes the door open, holding out his hands. "Here is your lovely room in the Mann Grand Hotel. I hope you find everything to your liking. Please let our front desk know if you will be needing anything else this evening."

Mary smiles at him for a moment more before wrapping her arms around him in a small hug. He stands for a moment, completely still, not knowing what to think. This might just be something left over from Mary's kidnap episode. It's most likely that. And, knowing that, Marshall wraps his arms around her too, gently patting her hair.

"Night Marshall."

He smiles at her when she moves back. "Good night Mare." After she closes the door behind her, Marshall takes a deep breath and then walks back to his room.

Sometime late in the night Mary wakes with a start from probably the most horrible kidnapping dream that she has had thus far. Periodically since her abduction she'd been having these dreams, each time until now, able to wake up and reassure herself that she'd be okay. But she doesn't recognize this place, or the smells or the climate at the moment. It's all foreign to her. She wipes the sweat off her forehead, looking around at her surroundings frantically, only realizing that she's not in her own house, but not yet remembering where she is. Throwing the covers aside, Mary jumps out of the guest bed and begins to look for a light switch. Finding it on the wall beside the door, she flips it on, finding that she is indeed in her partner, Marshall's home. Relief and disappointment both flood her at the same moment. No, she has not actually been kidnapped once more and that is the biggest relief of all, but she had been too afraid and confused to think straight, which is just not how she is at all. Her eyes close in self-reproach. Though she knows that this mindset is normal after being kidnapped, drugged, almost raped and nearly killed, she can't help but to berate herself for letting these bastards get inside her head. Mary Shannon is supposed to be stronger than this. No one is supposed to get to her like this.

She throws the door open and makes her way back over to the couch she had been sitting on with Marshall earlier. Somehow being in this spot made her feel better. It is a work night and she wasn't about to disrupt his sleep on top of everything else, not to mention that she didn't want him to see her like this anymore than he all ready has. He had flipped his lid, so to speak, when he had found out that the man had almost raped her on top of making her watch someone die and another of the men had threatened to cut of one of her fingers. She curls up into a ball on the couch, burying her head in her lap. She feels tears stinging at her eyes but manages to hold them in, not wanting Marshall to find her crying in the middle of the night, lest he should wake up and come out here.

She rubs the sides of her eyes, lifting her head from her lap. Someone places a hand on her shoulder and she reels around, delivering a forceful right hook to the person's jaw, only to realize that it's Marshall, who is somehow still on his feet.

She stands. "Damn it Marshall! What the hell are you doing?"

He steps back, rubbing his jaw. "I heard a door slam and was worried so when I came out and saw you out here..."

She lowers her head and then looks back up at him. "Oh...sorry. How are you?"

"Well, pretty good considering that I was just punched in the face." They stare at one another for a moment.

"You still worried about that whole thing with Brandi?"

She shakes her head. "Naw. I figure that by the time I get home tomorrow there'll be a new crisis."

Marshall nods. "Well, what did she say to you?"

Mary shakes her head. "Well, apparently I'm not giving mom a chance to prove that she can stop drinking."

Marshall nods at her again and he knows that her sister is probably right about at least that much, but also that Mary is well within reason to be judgmental. Besides, if he tells her he thinks Brandi is right, she'll just get even angrier and then be mad at him as well as her family. That's the last thing he wants and it's the last thing she needs to be hearing right now. With everyone else in her life right now letting her down, she needs one person to be on her side, regardless of their personal feelings or views. Even exotic animals have some friends.

"Marshall," He looks at her when he hears how small her voice is. "Distract me...do something...anything..."

He nods, not even asking what has her so upset. He goes over and turns on the radio, tuning into the oldies station. A song is just ending at the moment, leading into the next one. _I Like The Way You Love Me._ A slow, love song.

Marshall looks at the radio and then turns to her and holds out his hand. "Mare, get up." She glances at him.

"What?"

"Get up," He moves his hand toward her further and she just looks at him for a moment longer before standing and placing her hand on his. He pulls her close and begins to slowly sway from side to side, a slow dance. She is still for a moment, unable to move on her own, letting him move them both back and forth. This is certainly new. They've never really done anything like this before, not in a serious situation anyway. They had kissed in the barn a while ago, just to fool the diamond smugglers trying to kill Mary's witness. She had saved his life. He had saved hers. But she can't recall one time in the last few years they've been partners when they had danced.

Standing over her, Marshall can smell the scented shampoo in her hair from the morning. It isn't overpowering, but he can tell it's there. It's a very fresh, light scent, reminding him very much of standing outside after a big rainstorm. Sometimes personality isn't even what attracts you to someone, though Marshall cannot say that he doesn't admire Mary's personality, but it's just that person. It's just that one person, in and of himself or herself, for no one specific reason and for every reason imaginable. Maybe that's why he's attracted to her. Whatever it is, the thing he most admires about her right now is the way she's so close and the delightful smell of her blond hair under his nose.

A moment passes and she begins to relax into him, her arms slung over his shoulders, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. Her head still lays on his strong shoulder, but now she turns to face his neck, her nose lightly brushing against it. He doesn't make any moves, though he can feel a small shiver run down his spine and simply continues his dance until the song ends. They pull back and look at one another.

"You better?" Marshall questions quietly.

She nods her head and they sit down on the couch.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Another question? How many does there need to be?

Her head falls a bit. "It was just a stupid dream."

His eyes widen a bit, knowing her direction all ready. "About being kidnapped?"

She nods. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Marshall simply shrugs. "Good, I don't wanna hear about it."

Half serious, half joking. She grins. "That sounded serious. You don't care?" She can't imagine Marshall not caring. Marshall always cares.

He shakes his head, just like she knew he would. "That's not it at all Mare."

Her eyes meet with his, still slightly saddened but mostly confused. "Then what?"

He sighs discontentedly, looking to the floor for answers. When nothing comes to him, he simply looks at the woman sitting next to him. "If you aren't ready to talk to me then I won't push. That's just how we roll."

Her grin at this makes him feel a bit better and she finally just gets up. He follows. "You going to sleep?"

Rubbing her forehead tiredly, she nods.

He covers a yawn. He hasn't realized it has gotten so late. When he had noticed Mary sitting out here like this, he had forgotten all else and came to her aid.

"Yeah. I'll call it a night now that I've disrupted your sleep and all. Job's done for this evening."

He smirks. "Thanks, I really appreciate the honesty."

Mary gives a thumbs up. "No problem. Honesty is one of my seven virtues."

He chuckles. "Yeah, everyone should always be honest with you, right?"

She makes a face and then turns away. "One of my other seven virtues is kicking the asses of anyone who makes fun of my virtues."

He shrugs. "Understood."

They separate, going back to their rooms.

The following morning Mary wakes to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. That, in itself, is enough to make her get out of bed and rub her tired eyes, glancing around hungrily. She brushes her hair haphazardly and her teeth quickly as well before heading out into the other room in one of his tee shirts and boxer shorts, which she had taken from the bottom drawer where he always had left them for her overnight visits, few and far between as they are.

He looks up as she enters the room and smiles at her. "Looks good on you."

"I know. What's for breakfast?"

At that, Marshall looks around at everything. "Bacon, eggs, toast, home fries, milk and orange juice to drink. I thought I'd show you what someone on a balanced diet eats like."

She tilts her head, giving him a smirk in return. "You mean you actually eat all this every morning? How do you stay so boney?" She pinches his arm.

"Hey, cut that out, okay I'm shutting up."

She looks over all the food. "It does look good."

"Go ahead and make a plate," He tells her, handing her a clean one from the dish rack. "Everything's almost ready. The only thing that needs a bit more time is the sausage."

She looks at the meat, noting how dark they are. "Marshall, I thought you liked them cooked less."

He nods. "Yeah, but sometimes I like them well done."

She slaps his shoulder and then begins gathering food, both of them knowing that he really meant: "Because you're here, I thought I'd do it the way you want it."

"You have an overnight bag in the car?"

She looks up at him. "Duh,"

He nods. "Right, you don't. Um, I think I have some of your clothes here from when you stayed a few months ago. They're clean. I'll get those."

She nods and then goes back to biting on her toast.

He washes the dishes as she gets cleaned up and dressed, readying herself for an exciting day of house hunting with Andy. Stan is kind enough to call and inform the two of them that Andy had given a three-week notice of his move out to his current landlord. Which, of course means that now they are all going to go from place to place, seeing which ones Andy likes the best and which ones actually fit his price range.

_However, _She muses to herself as she climbs into the passenger seat of Marshall's car and gives him her usual grin. _I got a decent night's sleep last night staying here. I'll have to stay over at Marshall's more often. No Brandi or mom to wake me up. Sounds pretty damn good._

Marshall sits a cup of coffee down on her desk, thirty minutes before Andy is set to arrive. She yawns.

"Did you sleep okay last night Mary?" Stan questions, looking between his people.

Mary gives a nod in return. "Yeah, better than I have in ages."

Stan's eyebrows go up. "And you're still yawning? Jesus, get on a sleeping pattern."

Mary gives Marshall a fake wink and then looks back at her boss. "I didn't say that I _slept _all night last night."

The older man looks between the two Marshals, wondering if he should be concerned until he finally shakes his head.

"Oh come on Stan, don't you wanna hear the story?" Marshall asks, as the man disappears wordlessly into his office. Mary and Marshall grin at one another. Probably the most rewarding part of the job is making their boss worry needlessly.

"Thanks for letting me stay over." She tells him when Stan walks back through a bit later, motioning to the elevator. Apparently, the plans had been changed and they were now meeting Andy someplace else.

Marshall nods back at Mary. "You're welcome to stay over any time."

**I can't stress it enough! Please Read and Review! I like to hear what you all think. Constructive criticism, nice comments, even a simple "I liked it" will please me. I'm a simple person. I'm like a dog, you praise me and I'll keep doing my tricks to please you. Be a good master and review. Please.**

**I know, I had originally thought this to only be a short story, but now I'd like to do a third chapter. I'm not so sure about how to do Mary/Marshall fluffy stuff yet, but I promise that in this next chapter I will try my hand at it. This chapter had more of their banters than the first and the romantic aspect leaned more toward Marshall's feelings toward Mary and her need for comfort. I will do my best, but only after I see more reviews. Please, let me know if you'd like to hear more or what you thought about these two chapters. I know I said that the thrid would be the last, but I lied. ;D I want to bring the story to a conclusion. The third chapter didn't go exactly as I planned, my bad. Sorry all. So now, the last chapter, coming at you! Watch out, it's going to be a long one.**


	3. Chapter 3

**The third chapter at last. I've been fresh out of ideas up till now, but when I start a story I aim to finish it. (all though most seem to never be finished.) XD**

**Please read and review! I like hearing from you guys! No flames. Constructive criticism, positive feedback, nice comments all welcome here. I hope it's up to par. I worked hard on it, but I'm always afraid of OOCness.**

The following day at the office is a Friday, meaning she and Marshall will have off at least for Saturday, as long as nothing happens. _The last day of house hunting with Andy…_ Mary practically throws the files down onto her desk, making a loud clapping sound. Sitting, she has Eleanor, Marshall and Stan looking her way.

Her eyes narrow, scrunching up her nose a little. "What?"

Both Stan and Marshall turn away and back to whatever they had been doing while Eleanor continues to glance at her for a moment before turning away toward the file cabinet she had been rummaging through.

"Maybe we're all just wondering what's wrong with Her Highness today."

Mary grins sarcastically at the woman. "You ever stop to think that you're what's bothering me?"

Eleanor turns and gives her a grin of her own. "Why not? You've got something new bothering you every single day of the week."

Mary tilts her head. "Yeah, but lately it's only been you. Doesn't it feel good?" They stare coldly at one another for a moment before Eleanor has finally had enough. She turns away.

"I'm getting some coffee. Does anyone want anything?" Shaking his head, Marshall politely declines. Mary doesn't reply so Eleanor takes that to be a no and turns to Stan.

He nods. "Make mine a triple, extra foam."

Later that day, Mary, Marshall and Andy all hop out of the black SUV, looking up at the third house of the day. A ranch style home with a detached, two-car garage and conjoined two-bedroom apartment. They walk around the back of the house where there is a fenced in pool and back yard patio.

"Okay," Marshall says, looking through the papers in the clipboard he holds. "The Realtor, Barbara, should be here any minute. She'll take you on the house tour to see what it's got to offer."

Mary smiles. "Have fun Andy."

He nods, giving her a huge smile. "I think this is the house all ready."

Mary nods. "I hope you can still say the same after you ask what the price is."

Both heads turn toward her, Marshall's eyes widening a bit. It's like she wants this house hunt to go on for the next ten years. Oh wait, if they have extra work to do every single day then she won't have to go home until later in the evening. This fact, of course, only can lead him to believe that she and her sister are still arguing and that Mary is trying to avoid dealing with it for a while. He can't blame her for wanting to get out of the house. He also knows that she's prompt when she wants to be. When the time comes, Mary will deal with whatever is bothering her all on her own, in her own time. She doesn't need his help for that. However, none of this keeps him from being concerned about her.

Both Marshals return to the car, Mary hopping in the passenger side door and Marshall taking the driver's side. He turns the key forward, turning on the heat and radio, but leaving the engine itself off.

_Marshall obviously was changing the stations again, it's in the oldies. _She grins to herself, remembering the night before last. _What do you know, for a know-it-all, he did something without thinking and was helpful._ She looks over at Marshall, who is currently staring out the window at something invisible. His eyes flick to the curious woman beside him but then move right back to looking out the window. He doesn't turn his head or make a face or even ask what she wants. _Odd, usually he's the first to want to know things._ She quietly studies him for a moment, noticing each time he turns his head to look out her window at some other thing only her can see or makes a move, purposely avoiding eye contact.

"Marshall?" Mary questions.

His eyebrows go up, but he simply continues to look out of the windshield. Getting annoyed, her head tilts to one side.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He shrugs. "Nothing, why?"

"Don't tell me you're weird about me staying over at your house!"

His shoulders raise a bit as he shakes his head from side to side. She knows this as a trademark of his, a sort of silent language that only they speak. She knows that he's trying his best to lie, but is also snapping under the pressure and is obvious about the lie. So he is weird about it then! She rolls her eyes, her head rolling dramatically from one of her shoulders to the other. "Marshall, for god's sake, we're not teenagers!"

"It isn't about that!" He finally defends, catching her off guard. Her eyes snap to his, his gaze finally meeting hers. "Don't worry about that."

Mary narrows her eyes a bit, smiling in a confused manner over at him. But, just at the moment he is about to make his reply, the back door swings open and Andy jumps in excitedly. "Good news, no more house hunting! This is the one. It'll be perfect for my family to grow in! I'm placing an offer."

Turning over her shoulder, Mary grins at the man. "That's just fantastic Andy!" Something seems off about Mary here, but he lets it go this time, and just pretends not to notice.

Marshall's shoulders fall dejectedly as he reaches out and starts the car, pulling out of the driveway and heading off to drop him off at his current home. He doesn't have much reason to be disappointed because later, if Mary still wants to know, she'll just ask until she gets an answer.

As soon as they are at the office, Mary's phone begins to ring. She looks at the caller ID this time before promptly shutting it off and stuffing it into the nearest drawer that it'll fit in. Marshall watches quietly, afraid, as of yet, to say anything. But, after another few moments where nothing is said, Marshall takes this as an opportunity to offer an assist. "Hey."

She lifts her head. When they look at each other, they both know what the other is thinking. There is no need to do anything more than nod decidedly at one another.

When they get off work Mary hands Marshall her cell phone. "I'm going to pretend like the battery is dead, don't you dare turn it back on."

Getting into his car, he reaches across the gear shift to the glove compartment, dropping it inside. She looks at him. He grins back at her. "Consider it dead."

"So," Mary begins. He knew that it would come all day long and now here she is, asking. "What was that episode in the car all about today?"

Her eyes follow his movements, looking a bit uncomfortable under her gaze. It'll be a long while before he'll admit that he is feeling like their relationship has changed. It does change every single day, but this kind of change is definitely different from anything else.

"You haven't sorted out this problem you have with your sister, have you?"

Mary shakes her head. "Not until she admits that she's wrong and I'm right."

Marshall chuckles at the woman. It is natural to fight with your sibling, and watching Mary act like a teenager arguing with her sister over god knows what is a little amusing. "You should at least give her a chance."

"Yeah well," Mumbles Mary. "We'll see about that. I'm not gonna give her a mother of the year award just because she decides she's going to press the pause button on drinking for a little while."

Marshall rolls his eyes. "Nobody's asking you to give her an award Mare, just an opportunity."

Mary sits back in her seat, then hits the button to recline it. "She's had plenty of those and she blows them all off as far as I'm concerned. Let me know when you're going to start saying something useful."

He finally just gives it up. She's not going to just agree with him, especially not about something that will affect her in the long run. If Mary doesn't give Jinx a fair shake and let her try to prove she can kick the habit, as it were, then it would mess up their relationship even more. However, if Mary should give Jinx a chance she does go back to drinking again, then it hurts Mary and also hurts their relationship. So, no matter what way you look at it, it has the potential to be a lose-lose situation for all parties involved. Then it's probably best to just let Mary deal with this in whatever way she sees fit. She's going to do whatever the hell she wants anyway, regardless of advice he gives or any arguments he makes.

When they get to his home, Mary goes in first, heading straight to the kitchen to find something to eat. "Damn house hunting. I've only had a cheeseburger all day."

Marshall moves into the kitchen behind her. "Feel free to help yourself to something in the kitchen."

Turning and glancing at the man, she smirks playfully. "Thanks, I think I'll do that."

Not finding anything after searching for a few more minutes, Mary turns to Marshall, who is all ready on the phone with a pizza place. "No thank you. Just one large pepperoni pizza, light on the sauce with extra cheese. Yes, delivery is fine. Twenty to thirty minutes? Sounds good., thank you." He hangs up and Mary just looks at him in wonder.

How does he just know these things? She had been about to ask him if it was okay to get a pizza. "How the hell do you do that?"

He shrugs, pursing his lip innocently. "Do what? I just ordered some food. I haven't gone for any groceries yet."

Her hand goes to her hip. "I wanted pizza. I was about to ask you to get some...Jesus Marshall, you're so good at that it's..."

He cuts her off, smirking. "Annoying?"

Still marveling at the fact that he could just somehow know that, she simply shakes her head. "Whatever and yes, it's really annoying."

He grins. "Now, how'd I know you were gonna say that?"

he nods her head, her eyes becoming serious again. "Can it smart-ass."

He sighs. "And here I thought you wanted me to answer that question."

They both pile onto the couch, Mary sprawling out with her feet resting over his knees and Marshall leaning back into the couch with his head in his hands. She flicks through a few channels until finally stopping at HGTV, where they are show this home called a "green home." The room is otherwise silent, neither partner saying anything. After a while, Marshall glances at his watch.

Mary groans. "It has to have been thirty minutes by now! If it's not here in the next thirty seconds, I'll beat the shit out of the delivery guy."

Her partner shows her his watch. "It's only been twenty five minutes. It should be here..."

At the same moment the last word is about to fall from his lips, there comes a knock on the door. Both of them look over toward it and then he turns back to Mary, smiling. "Right now." Her head is shaking. How in the hell is it that he's right all the time?

After they are finished with the pizza, Mary is beginning to look tired. She yawns before Marshall says anything to her. "You're getting tired? Did you wanna call it a night?"

But she shakes her head at him. "You know what? I just feel like watching a movie."

He looks over at her. "What movie?"

Her head rests on the arm rest of the couch. "I don't care, if you know what movies I'm not going to let you put in without kicking your ass."

Making a face, he nods and gets up off the sofa, heading over to the T.V. and picking up Back to the Future on instinct.

She clears her throat. "You put that movie in and I'll personally make sure it never plays again."

He looks down at the movie in his hand, realizes what it is and then places it onto the shelf.

_Let's see... _He muses to himself. _Something that we're both going to watch. _Suddenly he remembers a movie he has from when they had been moving Leo Bishop. It didn't seem like the type of movie he'd have watched, but Marshall does have a few movies just for when he and Mary have to bring witnesses through his home just for a couple hours before they're relocated. This is the only current one. _Finding Nemo._ Oh well, it's the only thing that neither of them have watched before now. And who doesn't like a good Disney movie every once in a while, right?

He puts the DVD in the player and then fast forward through the previews. Sitting back on the couch, he watches Mary looking at the screen. "Really Marshall? _Shark Tale_?"

He shrugs, looking like a child that has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He attempts defending himself. "It's just something I have to entertain our...younger witnesses. And it's not _Shark Tale, _it's _Finding Nemo_."

"If that's what blows your skirt up." She comments in return.

Her eyes are on the screen. "Well," He observes. "What about you? You're watching it."

She looks over at him, her eyes narrowing a bit. "And you aren't? Don't turn this around on me, it's in your living room. Of course I'm watching it, you put it in so we could watch it."

He chuckles. "So you're saying that if I had put in _Back to the Future_ you would have watched that?"

The Marshal shakes her head at him. "That's a different story. I don't have to defend myself when you're the one who has the movie."

He sighs, defeated. "So just shut up and watch the damn movie."

Finishing what seems to be about the tenth witty banter of the day, they settle into the couch. _Finding Nemo _plays the whole way through, Mary having fallen asleep by about half way. Marshall turns off the player and tries to head to his room, but is stopped when Mary grabs his arm. Startled, he jumps a bit.

"Thought you were asleep…" He says.

She shakes her head, but is silent which makes him wonder if she is all right.

"You've been a little weird today. You all right?" He takes his place beside her again.

"I wish that I could just stay here. I really don't want to go back to my house and listen to what Brandi thinks she knows about mom and mom's begging for forgiveness and crying."

He sighs. "Did you ever think of just telling her you forgive her? It might actually help, you know."

When her eyes meet his, he knows that it is not the time for more bantering. Now it's time to be serious. He gives a heavy sigh, moving in a little more, without touching her. Saying that everything will be okay right now will only make matters worse. She doesn't need to hear that from anyone right now, most of all, himself. He knows because if the situation were reversed, he wouldn't want to hear it either.

"Look, Mare, this may be a biased best friend offering useless advice, but, I think you should forgive her."

Her eyes dart quickly from the floor to her partner's eyes, astounded. How could he take their side? How could Marshall not just sit back and quietly be comforting like he always does? Why does he have to ruin it now? "I don't believe this. You're gonna side with them? Who the hell is you partner again?"

His eyes close out of frustration. "No Mare, I'm not taking anyone's side. It's just how I feel."

Her eyes widen a bit and she gives a dry laugh. "Well, it sure sounds like you're taking their side."

He shakes his head, but she doesn't let him speak.

"God Marshall," Mary begins. "Why are you siding with Brandi? I thought we were best friends..."

He lowers his head. She's acting like an irrational little child. They both know that he is her best friend and that he'll do anything to make her happy. But, sometimes even he has to tell her things that she doesn't want to hear. "Mare it's-"

"And I know that mom's never going to stop drinking and I know that Brandi is always going to side with her no matter what."

Marshall reaches out and places a hand on her arm, but she doesn't seem to notice yet. He feels her shaking slightly but doesn't know if it's from stress or if she's just _that_ angry.

Feeling extremely bad for making her so upset, he turns to face the T.V. again. Right now what Mary needs is a friend and though he'd really like her to resolve this situation, he can't be telling her what to do. First off, he'll only make her mad and he should have known that to begin with. Secondly, she's not going to do anything just because someone says so. She needs to have her own reason.

"And I'm always going to be playing the Mediator, fixing everyone's screw ups!"

Marshall pats her arm a couple of times. "Listen-"

But she isn't. "But I'm the most messed up out of any one in my house!"

Feeling a pang, as if he was being insulted himself, Marshall prepares to argue with her. "That's not true."

She's all ready nodding at him. "Yes it is! I can barely put up with my family," She begins counting out things on her fingers. "I can't make any relationship stick. My only semi-functional relationship exists in my work place, without which I could no longer survive. I don't know my father. And these dreams, god these dreams...if they don't stop, I don't know what I'll do!"

His eyes widen a bit, following her every movement carefully. "Dreams?"

Looking irritated, she nods. "Yeah, _dreams. _Haven't you been listening to my senseless spiel?"

He feels his throat tighten up. "What kind of dreams?"

She looks down at the couch and then back at him. "You know what kind."

He feels his chest tighten a bit. He had hoped that in the last couple of days these dreams had stopped. But now, knowing that they have been recurring is upsetting him. Those bastards, first they kidnap her and now because of them she's been having these kidnap dreams as well. As if Mary hasn't been put through enough as it is. She is his Mary, his partner, his best friend. He may feel like he's always tending to some exotic animal but he wouldn't trade it for the world. On most days.

Everyone reaches a point where they just break in any situation, whether it be big, or small. There comes a point where you can no longer handle the information coming at you, where you just can't control yourself anymore. Marshall has passed this point all ready. He can't stand seeing her just break down completely like this. He couldn't stand it the first few times he had to watch it after rescuing her from that smelly, horrific and vaguely disgusting basement.

So, he does the one thing he's wanted to do all this time. Grabbing her face, he leans in and places his mouth over hers. Now, his better judgment is all ready telling him that this is completely the wrong thing to do if he wants to help her, but the rest of him, the part that's wanted this for so long, couldn't care in the least.

It only takes seconds for her to realize what is going on and another few for her to react. For just a few split seconds he could swear she's returning his kiss. And then realization must hit her right now because she seems hell bent on getting away from him. She's trying her best to pry herself out of his arms -now wrapped around her shoulders tightly- and push him away.

"Marshall-" Her voice wavers. "Marshall...what the hell are you doing?"

He looks at her, knowing very well that the mistake he just made could cost him not only his partner, but his best friend.

So...now what?

**Just so my readers know, this is definitely **_**not**_** the last chapter. It didn't really end the way I wanted it too, so only one more, I promise. I just couldn't make up my mind till now, but this time I'm sure. The forth chapter is the last one. It's not this chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Romance/hurt/comfort with a side of (slight) action. But, I could only pick two genres and since the first three chapters were like they were, those genres are what I went with. This one is mostly action, until the later and ending parts of the story. This is the last chapter for "Stay Over." (no really, hehehe) She is not staying at Marshall's house again in this chapter, they are actually in the middle of transporting a witness and trouble ensues. You'll have to read to find out! So, anywho, what happened was I got sidetracked and ended the last chapter early so I'm sorry to everyone who thought the last chapter was the last chapter. It was not. This has proven to be the one story I've written that I couldn't make up my mind about what to do with it. But here is the final chapter. *and the readers breathe a collective sigh of relief as I finally make up my mind* Sorry about all that. In the end, this chapter will tie up with the other three. It's going to be a long chapter though. I know, the way it starts, it probably won't seem to flow as well with the other three chapters, but it will come to a close with something tying it to the other chapters. Promise. Read on people...read on!**

"Great, now it's going to pour down rain?" Mary rolls her eyes as the sky sees to come loose, having been threatening to rain all day long. Her partner, Marshall climbs into the passenger side of the car. The witness in the back seat shifts uncomfortably. Their latest witness to transport: Nichole Lamvern. A forty-year-old with long, curly black hair and chocolate brown eyes. One of the few and rare innocents that Mary and Marshall see among all of the drug dealers, mob bosses and hit men they come across on a daily basis. A poor dumb soul who had simply been in the right place at the wrong time. An unlucky looser whose life is now turned upside down, inside out and any other way it can be viciously ripped apart.

In a way, Mary finds herself feeling extremely bad for this particular woman. The crime she had witnessed was actually an ordered hit on her brother -whom she hadn't spoken to in years because she had never actually known she had this brother- by a mafia boss to whom he owed money to for, you guessed it, drugs. What the hell else would people kill over save for money?

Her brother, on the other hand, by some ridiculous and odd twist did know about her and had been trying to get into contact with her. He had finally found her for the first time and was about to reveal he was her brother when he was shot. A single shot with a sniper rifle at close range, to the back of the head. That is all it takes sometimes. Too bad. Life kinda sucks all around sometimes.

"Yeah Stan, we've just picked her up and we're on our way to the new location. It should only take an hour, maybe more, it's not that far from here." Marshall speaks quietly into his cell. For the last couple weeks any conversation he has around Mary, with her or not, is pretty hushed. His tone mimics that of a master who has been bitten by their pet. Even though it hurts, you still love your animal very much.

He hangs up after Stan finishes and stares quietly out of the windshield. No car ride has ever been this silent, not even after Mary had read his letter from Peterson Accounting. She had been pissed, but that could not even come close to comparing with the cold shoulder she has given him lately. In fact, everything about Mary has been cold since that night. It's like she's completely shut down, totally closed off.

He knew –no, he _knows_- that it had been a hell of a mistake to just kiss her like that. But, it could not be helped. Something in him had just reached its breaking point. He couldn't handle watching her be upset anymore. _And I never have quite figured out my reason for linking kissing her to helping her. In my own mind, I guess that's just what I had wanted at the time._ He glances over at his silent partner, who knows that she's being watched but will not turn and look at him.

He sighs. "Mare," Her eyebrows go up but that's all the more response he gets. Knowing that now is an extremely bad time for this conversation, Marshall is very grateful when Nichole speaks up.

"Hey, you guys have any stops planned? I'm starved."

Marshall glances at her quickly and then turns to face forward.

"Didn't you just eat?" Mary asks, shaking her head. The woman shakes her head in return.

"I didn't. The food on the plane costs too much and it's horrible anyway."

Rolling her eyes, Mary looks back in the rear view mirror just to make sure there's no one around. "We do not have any _planned _stops, no. However, if we do pass a fast food restaurant and 'fast food' lives up to its title, I think pulling through a drive-thru wouldn't be a bad idea." Marshall says before glancing at Mary. "You?"

She shrugs, nodding her head a bit. "If it's really fast, then sure." Mary isn't about to turn down food when she hadn't had much for lunch. Even if it's the crappy drive-thru food.

They pull into the lane and look up at the outdoor menu. "A cheeseburger with everything on it, a large fry and the biggest and most sugary drink that they've got." Says Nichole from the back seat.

Marshall glances at the woman.

"You buying?" Mary questions from the driver's seat. A question directed to Marshall. Rolling his eyes, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet.

She grins slightly and then turns back to the menu just in time for the clerk to ask: "What may I get for you today? Today is our special, you get two double cheeseburgers for the price of one when you buy any large diet soda and fries."

"No. I don't need any of that. Just a simple cheeseburger with everything on it, a large fry and a soda. For me, a water and a grilled chicken sandwich." She turns to Marshall. The first time she's looked at him in probably two days. "What do you want?"

_Well, if ever I've heard a question that I've attached a double meaning to... _"Uh, just some fries."

"Ah shit..." Complains the witness from the back seat. Mary rolls her eyes. "This is cold!"

Glancing in the rear view mirror, the inspector can see that the woman is holding her drink and shrugs, looking incredulous. "For the love of...it's a damn soda. They wouldn't be any good if they were warm!"

"It's not that…the cheeseburger…god damn….and now I spilled the soda all over myself!"

Without turning to her, Mary replies. "Just as long as it's not all over the back of the car cause we have other people to haul around." Obviously, she could care less.

Nichole wanted the damn food. She got the damn food. Now she needs to shut up and eat the damn food. Why do just certain witnesses have to make these car rides seem even longer than they are?

"Really, you pay for these things at a fast food place, you expect it at least to be hot when you take a bite!" The woman drones on, grinding on Mary's thinning nerves.

Marshall's brow furrows as he notices his partner's hands tightening and loosening at the ten and two on the steering wheel. He knows that she's all ready past her breaking point and doesn't want to become involved anyway. _It's really best to let some of the witnesses learn the hard way when enough is simply enough._

"And anyway…" The mindless complaints abruptly stop when Mary slams on the brakes real fast, staring out ahead. The woman in the back seat blinks once, soda dripping down out of her hair. "If you wanted to shut me up, you could have just told me to shut up." She grabs a napkin and sets to works trying to clean herself off, to no avail.

"Unorthodox yet ludicrously effective…bravo," Marshall claps sarcastically.

Mary shakes her head briefly at the both of them and then motions toward the road. Marshall's gaze pans slowly to the place she had been pointing out. There, not more than twenty yards ahead is a car that's just sitting in the middle of the road.

"Curious…" Marshall is reaching for his gun, while Mary has all ready pulled hers.

"What are they doing up there?" She questions herself.

"Dunno," Her partner shakes his head. "But we're about to find out."

Nichole looks between the two inspectors nervously and then out at the car ahead of them. She squints.

"Do you recognize it?" Marshall questions and the woman leans forward a bit, as if that would help her to see the vehicle better. But it proves vain.

"I'm sorry, I don't." Four simple and quiet words. They'll be the last for quite a while to come now. The engine of the car roars into life, the headlights gleaming through the rain. Mary tilts her head to one side, her eyes narrowing a bit in an agitated curiosity. She turns the car off and slides her jacket over her shoulders.

Marshall glances at her, concerned. "What are you doing?"

She shakes her head back at him. "Just wait here a minute."

Pursing his lip, Marshall shifts nervously in his seat. _Once again, the childish curiosity has taken her over. She never can resist and she makes me so damn nervous._ He knows that he shouldn't worry so much and yet he always does. This is their job and bad things happen to them just about every single day. Their situation is sometimes even more dire, for example: Mary being kidnapped and almost killed or him getting shot and being trapped in the middle of a dry wasteland with no help and no way out.

So Mary hops out of the driver's side, walking away from their Tahoe a few yards. When she's within ten yards of the other car, she can make out three figures in it. One of the figures is a small dark silhouette with long hair, probably a girl and two larger figures, most likely older men.

The lights on the car flick once and then she hears the mechanics clank as they shift gears. The engine revs, the car speeding toward her. Her eyes widen as behind her in the Tahoe, Marshall's eyes widen. He pushes the car door open and jumps out, shouting. "Hey!" She turns to look at him for a few seconds and then jumps out of the path of the oncoming car just in time to not get hit.

"Damn it!" Marshall turns quickly back around to the door and shouts in at the lady. "Down on the floor!" She ducks quickly as he pulls the gun from his ankle holster and begins shooting at the car. He can see Mary, as the small blue Chevy turns back in the other direction, also taking aim and firing at it. She's moving in toward him but he knows to remain with the witness, despite wanting so badly to know if she is all right.

The car takes a full turn and then comes back in Marshall's direction, a gun coming out of the passenger side window. He doesn't know how they hope to hit him in this downpour, but it is always best to air on the side of caution in these situations.

Just as he ducks for cover, a shot rings out, the gun falling to the pavement beneath the blue car. Confused, Marshall looks around to find that Mary has somehow gotten closer to their own vehicle again and is now staring angrily with her nine millimeter pointed at the passenger window. He smirks. She is obviously not in the mood for another of his near-death experiences.

For a second, they catch one another's eyes and he knows that she is right. In confirmation, she gives him a little smile. _Not today Marshall. There is no way I'm letting your ass get shot again. _

She moves back across the road and up beside the SUV again as the smaller vehicle barrels toward them. In this moment, looking between her gun, the blue car and their SUV, she realizes that it is a _much_ better weapon. So which will it be: Two guns against 1,500 pounds of metal or a much bigger, heavier SUV against 1,500 pounds of metal? The answer is too simple. She holsters her gun and then jumps back into the car, Marshall following unquestioningly; obviously aware of her plans all ready.

She turns the key back, the engine coming alive. The first thing is the brake, then the gear shift and finally…screech! With a squealing of its tires, the SUV barrels forward. When the other car stops in its tracks with more squealing of tires on pavement, Mary gives a pleased grin and stops the SUV as well. "Looks like 1,500 pounds just isn't gonna cut it."

Marshall smirks. _That's my girl._

But just at the moment where they have a lapse in attention, the SUV is smashed into, Mary flying into the steering wheel. Marshall is thrown into the dashboard, hitting his head at completely the _wrong_ spot for someone who wants to stay conscious. The witness in the back of the car cries out in fright, throwing her hands over her head and sinking as far as she can into the floor. The whole vehicle rattles for a few milliseconds, the interior lights and dashboard lights flickering into the off position. The engine dies. Marshall lifts his head, his vision blurred and tries his best to make out his surroundings. _In a car_, the first coherent thought. _In_ _our SUV, transporting a witness. Nichole…something…_

His head turns now toward the driver's seat where Mary lay, her upper body sprawled out across the dashboard and steering console and her lower body pinned in between the wheel and the seat, pushed together from the force of the impact. She isn't moving and her eyes are closed. He may be slightly disoriented, but he does what he remembers. _Reach out and feel for a pulse…_ His fingers contact the side of her neck. The pulse is alarmingly slow, however, there is a _pulse_, which to Marshall is a slight relief.

He lifts his head farther when he can make out a figure at the driver's side door. The door comes open with much effort on the other person's part and Mary is pulled out and out of his view. He reaches out haphazardly toward his partner, but can't seem to find her any longer. This means, obviously, that he will no longer know where she is or if she's going to be okay. The back door opens and another person takes Nichole quite forcefully from the floor of the back seat.

He however, is lifted out of his seat by a pair of tiny, gentle hands. The hands are shaking. A soft voice mummers words he can't quite make out. Only two thoughts are running through his mind in his last seconds of consciousness. One, of course being centered around the witness's whereabouts and the second, more prominent being simply: Where is Mary?

"Mary," He mumbles as he slips into unconsciousness.

"Carl," One of the men says to a guy who's name is apparently Carl. "Put the blond on the bed over there. This girl stays with me." He grabs Nichole's chin, bringing her face close to his and smiling acidly at her.

His eyes run down over the woman. "Maybe I won't make this completely miserable for you. Wha d'ya say sweetie?" She bares her teeth together and her eyes ice over.

Mustering up all of the courage inside of her she spits in the man's face. "Go to hell!"

His eyes looking dangerous, he moves his revolver up against her temple. His grin is venomous. "Now that's not a very nice thing to say." He runs the barrel of the gun down the side of her cheek slightly. "Do you want to maybe rephrase your answer?"

Her expression doesn't change at all; obviously she is unfazed by his threat on her life. For a moment there is nothing but angry silence between the captive and the captor. He smirks, the grin tugging upon one corner of his mouth as his eyes run down over her again.

"Tom," Calls Carl, just at the last second. "What do I do with the stiff?"

Tom turns to his accomplice, seeing that he is pointing to the still unconscious Marshall, laying on the floor in a young girl's arms. The girl's head shoots up, her ponytail of medium-length brown hair bobbing around lazily. Her blue eyes scan the two men, hoping they don't hurt her. The larger of the two, Tom, takes a few big steps toward the girl, who is currently huddled over the Marshal passed out in her lap.

"Just set him over beside the bed with the other cop. But take their guns and their phones," Tom tells his accomplice.

Carl nods at the order and then takes Marshall by the shoulders, dragging him over and laying him against the side of the bed. He searches Mary first, grabbing her gun, but not finding her cell phone anywhere on her. Then he moves to Marshall, removing both his gun and his phone. Finally, moving to the witness, he removes her phone as well.

Marshall's eyes begin to open. He knows at the moment not to make any sound, simply because, now conscious, he has no idea where he is. He spies a man at a small dresser, placing his gun and his phone inside.

_Damn. Now what? _Marshall cusses inwardly, but holds perfectly still, closing his eyes when the man turns toward him. He makes sure to try and hold as still as possible. Another voice sounds now as well, a male. "We got to go outside and use the phone. No one better have disappeared when we come back or the remaining individuals get a bullet in the head. Have I made myself clear?"

Marshall now hears Mary's witness's voice. "Crystal," She says.

The door slams shut and a sob sounds softly as Marshall opens his eyes to survey his surroundings.

They are in what appears to be either a motel room- and a ratty one at that- or a small, abandoned cottage. The walls are rickety and mold is growing in some places, dust covers most of the remaining, dilapidated furniture, broken things such as glass and wood cover the floor. The air in the small room is musty and smells like- well, like a beat up, forgotten old home. Specifically, they are in the den or living room, where the couch has been folded out into a bed for quite some time. It, however, is the only thing in the room not totally covered in dust.

"Damn him. Damn him straight to hell!" Nichole says from her corner of the room, Marshall's eyes darting to the dirty, but still living and uninjured witness. "We can get out of this. There must be some way…"

Another girl cuts her off, Marshall now turning in that direction. The girl is a brunette, her hair pulled back into a little, bobbing ponytail and she has sharp blue eyes. She looks to be younger than Nichole, by quite a lot. "There isn't. Please don't make them any more angry."

He finally speaks up. "No." Both young women turn and look at him.

"Marshall? You're okay!" Nichole whispers excitedly. The young girl looks somehow relieved.

"Yes, for being held hostage, I am quite lovely thank you. But you are right about getting out of here. We've gotta come up with some kind of plan…" His eyes widen. _A plan._ Yeah, now all that's left is to actually come up with one. That shouldn't be hard at all.

He quickly makes his way over to the drawer he had seen the man put his gun in and tries it anyway, though it is locked tightly. His face scrunches up in frustration. When he turns back around, he finally notices Mary, laying motionless on the bed he had been leaning against. His heart about stops and he makes his shaky way over to her, reaching out and pushing a lock of dirty, blond hair behind her ear. She makes no move, nor does she respond. He feels for a pulse. It's there, a little weak, but there.

After a much needed deep breath, he turns back to Nichole. "How long was I out? How long have we been here?"

She shrugs. "Well, it was around mid-day when that car busted up the SUV. It's dark now so I'd say about six hours or so, maybe more."

His attention now turns to the other girl in the room, having ignored her until now. "Who are you?"

She looks at him, frightened and doesn't answer.

Marshall sighs and takes a few steps, kneeling down beside her. Maybe in his own nervous state, he seems rather threatening to her. He knows that if they are to come up with a tangible solution, that they all must trust each other enough to be able to work together. He places a hand tentatively on her shoulder, which she glances at before her eyes meet with his serious ones again.

"You want to make it out of this don't you?" Marshall questions.

She is silent for a moment and soon begins to nod.

"Okay. Then I'm going to need your help. I can resolve this, but only if you cooperate." His eyes shift between Crystal and her mom, whom the girl's eyes are also shifting toward. Nichole gives her daughter a firm look and nods. This gives Crystal the confidence she needs to cooperate.

Crystal looks back at the Marshall, and, now feel as secure as one can as a hostage, she nods at him again.

"So, I'll ask you again. What's your name?" It sounds a little impatient, but given the current situation, that's not at all an issue right now.

"Crystal Lamvern. Nichole is my mom."

He whirls around on the woman in the corner of the room, who is now nodding at Marshall.

"She's not a dependant. I thought I wasn't supposed to contact her, so I convinced myself that she'd be all right."

Marshall's eyes harden a bit, anger bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. "Does she look okay to you right now?"

Voices come from outside the door and Marshall looks up, quickly crawling back into his place beside the bed and looking warningly at the other two conscious hostages. They get the message: Stay quiet.

The two men walk back in the door just as Marshall shuts his eyes, opting to play "the stiff" for as long as is necessary, or at least until he can get a better handle on his situation.

Carl looks toward Nichole.

Nichole glares back at him icily. "What are you staring at?"

He tilts his head and smirks, slowly making his way closer to the woman. "You know," He touches the mouth of the barrel on his gun with his fingertips, warningly. "As much as I'd love to kill you myself…you're not going to die quite yet. The boss man wants you for himself." He says it as if she's supposed to be frightened or something like that. She is unfazed.

Marshall, peeking open an eye, must applaud her courage at this moment. Nichole doesn't back down when she's faced with a tougher adversary. Who does that remind you of now? The bed creaks slowly behind him and then he hears Mary's groan. _She's in pain…_ He curses mentally. _When we figure out some kind of substantial plan…the asshole who was driving the car is getting my first shot. _

"You say that almost like I'm supposed to be afraid of you." Nichole raises her eyebrows at the balding man, making his round face scrunch up in a bitter sort of humor. Marshall is even more surprised by this response, knowing how different she had been in the back of the car and how she had complained through most of the ride. Right now, she sounds so much like Mary that he has to believe Mary herself would be impressed.

"What the hell is this?" Mary's voice comes from behind him and Marshall can practically feel all eyes in the room dart to her. She tries to move and must realize that she's too beat up to turn over.

_Well, she was pinned in between the dash and the seat. I can imagine that she's probably not the most stable at the moment._ He can only hope to god that none of her bones are broken. It probably wouldn't be possible to rescue a crashing partner while dealing with two hostile gangsters and maintaining a stable state of mind to care for the witness and her young daughter. Mary did the same for him when he had been shot, and grant it, Marshall is tough. There's no question about that. But, when push comes to shove and given that his situation is now very similar to how Mary's had been at that time, will he be able to handle it if Mary's condition turns out to be unstable? Or, more unstable than it is already, anyway?

One of the men walks over toward her, leaning down and moving her face toward him to get a good look at her.

Her brown eyes come to rest on his, now more pissed off than anything. "Hey…I asked a question! Does anyone plan on answering or are you all just going to stand around and look like idiots?"

The man with the gun at her face turns and looks to Carl, who is standing back a bit, making an assessment of the situation. Tom's eyebrows go up a bit, an impressed expression passing over his eyes. "This one's got a mouth on her too."

Carl crosses his arms.

"I think that it's time we teach these girls not to mouth off." Tom pulls his gun back a bit. Just as Mary can feel it coming, just as her body begins to revert to pure survival mode, just as Marshall is about to come to her defense, Carl speaks out.

"Are you crazy?" Tom looks at him, the gun lowering to his side. "The boss wants all the hostages _alive_ and unharmed. We can't do nothin' but watch 'em."

Carl turns back to the Marshal and leans down, looking smug. "I guess that you're safe for now then, bitch."

She smirks at the man. "You wouldn't believe how many times a day I get that line." Marshall smirks as well now. That's his partner.

"Hey," Carl points to Marshall, still trying to play an unconscious man. "Wake this one up. I'm sure by now he's probably just sleepin'." Tom nods and then kneels down and basically shakes him senseless.

Marshall opens his eyes slowly. "There are less painful and more humane ways to wake one." He says it as if he were directing it at Mary.

"Wake up sunshine. There are things we have to do today." Tom says jokingly.

Marshall takes a look around at everyone and then turns back to Mary. "What just happened?"

She shrugs, looking in pain. He winces, a small, almost undetectable twitch, but it is there. She is hurting. "From how things look, I'd say that we've been taken as goddamn hostages. This happens too much you know."

He scrunches up his nose. "I know. And I had so much work to do when I got back to the office…" Mary smirks at him and he grins back.

For one second they can exchange a glance. His eyes deepen in question. _Are you okay?_ It's like they can read one another's minds. She nods at him, for a few intense seconds, their eyes lock. _But I think I may have broken something._ He breathes out. At least he can tell to a fraction of a degree how serious her injuries are now.

"Full of wisecracks aren't we?" Tom's grin only widens.

"Yeah," Carl says from his corner of the room beside Nichole, who is still looking upon him like her glare alone will kill. "They're all full of piss 'n vinegar aren't they? Guess we got one of those 'heroes-with-witty-banters' bunches today."

Tom nods at his partner. "Yeah, should I tie 'em up?" Tom and Carl exchange a short glance before the bald man nods at the skinny one.

"Do it. Just be careful."

After binding everyone else's hands, Tom finally makes his way to Mary, who, seemingly, is only able to move her head right now. "You broke anything?"

Her eyes narrow a bit. "What do you think?"

His eyes narrow a bit. "Would you like me to find out the hard way or can you just give a straight answer?"

Glaring back at him for a moment, she concludes that this is not the time to be cracking wise. "Okay…okay. Possibly one rib…right side. It hurts to breath. If you tie my hands behind my back, I won't be able to breathe at all and I'll die. If you tie them over my stomach, you could possibly injure me further. Now, I may be taking a shot in the dark here but I'm thinking your boss isn't going to be too happy if I have any more broken bones." Not the time to be cracking wise, perhaps. But since when has Mary cared about that?

He looks her over to the other man who shrugs. "I'll leave you go," He tells the woman. "You won't be a problem soon enough."

She shakes her head. "I guess I won't."

The phone rings, Carl pulling it out of his pack pocket. He motions to Tom and they head outside again.

Standing up, Marshall turns and looks at Mary. "Well, that makes one more thing he's not good at."

She tilts her head.

He grins and pulls the rope out from behind his back. "Tying knots."

Mary stares, looking absolutely stunned at this and he just shrugs at her. "What? I read a book once about the art of escape and I do have unusually thin wrists." She shakes her head, ignoring that.

"How are you?" He asks, preparing for a smart-ass reply.

"Well," She begins. "I am a hostage and I am stuck in some smelly, ratty room in the middle of god-knows-where, but I'm doing pretty good." She looks to the other two girls. "How about you guys?" They both shrug, either not knowing how to respond or not wanting to be involved in their banter.

"While I appreciate that you feel up to cracking wise, as it were, what I meant was-"

She cuts him off. "Hey…were there always two of them?"

Marshall glances over at the two ladies on the other side of the room. "No, the other one is a kidnap as well. Her daughter, Crystal."

Mary looks all the more confused. When Marshall tries to begin again, he only has to stop short once more. "What I was asking was…"

"She has a daughter?" She looks at Nichole. "You have a daughter? And you didn't think it would matter if you just kind of…left that part out?"

Shaking her head, the woman prepares to defend herself when Marshall speaks up again. "Well I -"

"Mare! Are you okay?" His voice cracks when he speaks, making everyone in the room stop and look at him. She is shocked at the directness of his question. Usually, even in these situations she has to ask two or three times before getting a response, or otherwise, that she is able to understand.

She slowly nods. "I thought we went through this all ready?"

He shrugs. "I'm only being thorough."

She swings her head to one side, jerking to the left a bit. Marshall jumps to keep her from moving, knowing that it very well could be a bad idea. However, he is too late. First comes the sound of the cracked bone grinding and then Mary's gasp of pain and very shortly thereafter, blood begins to run over her lip. Marshall quickly kneels beside her. He knows that it's a bad idea to move her, and he doesn't want to make her injuries any worse. "Listen, Mare…"

She glances at him.

"I know it hurts to breathe right now…but I need you to breathe deeply. It helps, trust me it does. Also, if you can, you need to cough as much as you are able to." He's actually speaking in a language she understands.

She takes a deep breath, wincing slightly and gives a weak cough. His eyes are wide with fright. He feels the unshed tears stinging at his eyes, Mary reaches up and touches his face lightly. He closes his eyes in relief. _She's well enough to move._ Well, it's definitely a start.

"Well," Nichole says, from her little corner by the door. "What now?"

Both Mary and Marshall look at the woman and then back at one another.

Marshall sits, tying the ropes back around his hands. "We'll figure something out."

Mary scrunches up her nose at the hard lump under her back. _Smelly, disgusting and uncomfortable…I swear to god when we get outta this it's straight to massage therapy for me. After, of course running down the bastard who put me here in the first place._ She reaches under back and into the musty, moldy old sheets to find something small and metal. Her eyes widen. It couldn't be, could it?

But here it is, her phone, hidden in the blankets beneath her. And here she had thought the abductors would at least be smart enough to search the blankets if they had taken all the phones.

She opens the phone, placing it behind her head. "Marshall, I've got a plan."

He looks back at her. "Well, feel free to share."

The others look at her as well. "I really hope this works. Don't get caught," Crystal cowers, now moved over beside her mother, who is sitting back, with Crystal leaned up against her.

"It'll be okay, we're very good at what we do."

Quickly finding Stan's number in speed dial, she knows she must make this conversation short.

"What's up?"

She laughs. "Minor setback."

He sighs on the other end of the phone. "How minor?"

Mary nods to herself before replying. "Major minor."

"Well," McQueen shoots back. "What happened?"

She proceeds to tell him a short version of their story. "Anyway, track and locate." She hears the men about to come into the room. "My phone, no calls, got to go!" She hears the disconnect, but knows that her phone is on silent, so there shouldn't be too much of a problem there.

"It won't be long now." Marshall mouths as one of the men comes back into the room. Nichole and Crystal nod.

"It should only be about another hour." Carl says, smiling at the group of people.

The other of the two men, Tom, is still outside on the phone. The door swings to a close behind the bald man.

"I'm very glad to be kept posted on the countdown." Nichole mumbles smartly, her daughter trying desperately not to smile at the jibe.

Carl turns to her. "I'd shut that smart mouth of yours lady. Someone who's about to die shouldn't be so cocky."

Nichole shrugs. "If I'm going to die anyway…"

Suddenly Mary begins to cough behind Marshall. He knows she's not faking but this is staged. He's going to be the only one in the room that can help her. Carl comes over to the two of them, looking down at the woman and then at Marshall. The marshal looks back up at him. "What's wrong with 'er?"

Marshall's eyes grow fierce, becoming more and more pissed. "Well, she's coughing up blood and she's highly uncomfortable so I'd say she has broken her rib and maybe even punctured a lung."

Carl looks between the two of them once more. "Well, what should we do?"

Marshall shrugs. "I'm the only one in the room who knows the correct way to care for such trauma. She'll die if you don't untie me so I can take care of her."

The man shrugs at his captive. "She's going to die either way."

Marshall grinds his teeth together. "Aren't you guys the ones who said 'The boss wants them alive and unharmed?" Even if we are all going to die, then at least I can make her comfortable until such a time comes."

The two men stare coldly at one another for a few seconds before Carl shrugs and leans down to him. "Whatever, man," He tells Marshall. "Go ahead and take care of your girlfriend."

As he leans in to undo the ropes, Marshall reaches back and wraps it around his neck, knowing exactly how much pressure to add to make him pass out, all though he gives a half a second's thought to just killing him. "Thanks for your warm hospitality," Marshall sneers at the man as he is about to pass out. "But I do not believe my partner is the only one who will be in need of medical care today."

The marshal works quickly once his captor is out cold, removing all and any weapons he finds on the man and then turns to the other two women and releases them.

"Okay," Mary moves into a sitting position, fully aware that it's a bad idea. "Here's what we're not gonna do: We're not going to panic or get flustered. It's a sure fire way to get shot and die."

Both Nichole and Crystal nod at Mary. "I guess it's kind of hard to argue with logic like that."

Marshall smiles, making his way back toward Mary. "You shouldn't move."

Shrugging, Mary gets up and onto her feet, Marshall standing with his hands out, ready to catch her, should she have any more trouble.

"Marshall has put this plan into action to save your lives and I don't want to see either of you mess it up, got it?"

Again, both ladies nod.

Mary glances at Marshall and then back at the witnesses. "This is an ambush. But for it to work, we need you two to stay out of the way. So, when he comes in you two better not move." After clarifying, Mary gazes at Marshall. "If this works, I owe you a talk, and a thank you." He simply grins at his partner.

Tom peers into the quiet room. _It's too damn quiet for a room full of tied up hostages._ He pushes the door open a bit more, holding the gun out in front of himself a little and looking cautiously from side to side. "Hello? Where are the smart-asses? Carl?"

When he's in far enough that Marshall's sure, he moves in quickly toward the man and wraps an arm around his neck, placing the gun against his temple. Watching as the man's eyes flick to the three women in the room, Marshall calculates his move and tightens his hold on the kidnapper's neck. "You wanna shoot one of them? Go right ahead and try. You'll be the first on the premises to die if you do though, trust me."

Mary pulls her gun as well, also directing it at Tom. "I swear to god if you or your unconscious, idiot partner try anything I'll shoot out both your kneecaps and then leave you in the middle of the road. So, are we going to do this the easy way or are you going to make me leave you for the birds to pick apart?"

The man looks between the two marshals as he is also moved inside, tied up and placed in the corner with the still unconscious, Carl.

Mary looks to Marshall and smirks but begins to cough, blood flying from her lips. Not gushing blood, but enough to make Marshall worry for her. He moves in her direction, helping her to lie down on the bed. "Remember what I said." It rushes out as he tries not to panic. _Hurry up and get here Stan. _

Tiredly, Mary watches as her partner places a pillow under her head. She takes his hand, no longer breathing so well. "Marshall," His eyes dart to hers. "I'm not mad at you…I mean for...you know…"

She begins to cough loudly, each time hurting herself more and Marshall squeezes her hand tightly in his, forcing himself to not cry.

"I know Mare," Again, this Marshall marshal may be may be tough, but this is one of the few things that he has trouble dealing with.

A black Toyota 4runner pulls up outside the small shack where the supposed hostages are being kept. A tall, thin man in a dark Armani suit and black, blocker glasses gets out, along with two other men, who have small hand guns in their hands.

"Come on, it looks like the idiots let something happen." The man says, motioning toward the door. The tag-alongs sheath their guns in their belts and follow silently. Once at the door the man knocks twice. For a moment there is nothing but silence and then it creaks open to reveal Marshall, Stan and about ten armed police officers.

Right away the two idiots turn from their boss and try to run, only to be met with more armed officers.

"You, my friend, are under arrest for a list of crimes so long that I'm I'm just going to go ahead and tell you what you aren't under arrest for. Nothing." Bobby D. tells the man as he leads him to the car, reading him his rights. The other two men are led, after being disarmed, toward another squad car.

Marshall walks by Tom and Carl, who are being patted down and leans in-between the two of them. "Whoever's brilliant idea it was to smash up our SUV, I thought I'd let you know that Mary wants the money for the repairs by the end of the week and the driver gets to pay the hospital bills, just so you understand that." He stands straight and begins to walk away before turning back. "Cash not check!"

Walking over to stand beside his boss, the marshal crosses his arms.

"Hey," Stan says to him.

The deputy looks at his boss. "Yeah?"

"You were checked over by the medics I take it?"

Marshall nods. "Go see Mary at the hospital. Everything's taken care of here." He doesn't need to be told twice and is almost gone and in the car before Stan is done talking.

After a short drive, Marshall flashes his badge at the nurse's station. "Mary Shepherd's room, if you would be so kind."

The young lady nods and smiles. "314."

Giving a smile, he turns and heads up to the room.

She's awake when he walks in.

"Hey," He takes a seat nervously at her bed side.

"Hey." Her eyes still on him, she grins and asks, "So, are the idiots gonna pay for the car or what?"

Chuckling, Marshall nods back at his partner. "I think they got the message."

Her eyes turning toward the ceiling, Mary nods. "Good." Marshall knows better than to ask. He has to let her begin the conversation on her own.

"So, I'm thinking that kiss, it wasn't just because you suddenly felt the need to kiss someone and I was the closest."

He nods. "That assumption would prove correct."

Avoiding the topic for a minute, Mary looks toward the opposite wall.

Marshall's eyes never stray from Mary.

"I'm not mad at you, really…"

He can only stare for a minute. Marshall had simply thought Mary was saying that to clear the air in case things became any worse. But this is something she really does want him to know.

"And that means that you _are_ feeling…what, exactly?"

She turns over slowly to meet his gaze. "You're my friend," She tells the man. "You're my best friend."

He nods. "Your _only_ friend. I know."

Looking thoughtful, Mary shakes her head. "I just…I'm not…"

He nods. "You don't feel the same. I understand that-"

"No!" She cuts him off. "I'm not finished yet. I mean to say…I'm not ready to take it seriously yet. Having a real relationship with someone, isn't exactly something I'm all that good at."

Marshall is nodding as well. "I know you Mare and I know that you're not someone who commits so easily." Mary reaches out her hand for him to take. Slowly, as if he doesn't want her to realize it, his hand wraps around hers. He slides his chair a bit closer to the bed.

"So, then you're completely okay with my not taking it seriously?"

He nods. "Mare, we've been partners for three years. I know how you are. You know how you are. If you're not fully ready, I'll be patient."

Her eyes widen and then soften again. "Where do we go from here then?"

They look at one another for a moment or so while Marshall considers his response. His thumb, unbeknownst to him, gently rubs the back of her hand. His eyes are so gentle when they meet with hers. "For once, Mare, I don't know the answer to that question. I suppose we just go from here, taking it one day at a time and see what happens."

Their eyes remain locked for another few seconds before she begins to smile. This could really be a good thing after all. "One day at a time huh? I like the sound of that."

He grins. "Somehow, I thought you would."

Her smile remains in place for another few seconds before she looks at him again, scrunching up her nose.

"What?"

"You remembered to tell the idiot to pay my hospital bill too, right?"

His eyes widen a bit and then he just chuckles. _She'll always be Mary._ "So, you planning on making amends with your family anytime soon?" Marshall quips, attempting to lighten the air somewhat.

"Over my dead body." Mary shoots back and then, only after, realizes that it is very bad wording. They exchange a serious glance. She has to give in this time, knowing that look. "Okay...I'll think about it."

He smirks, pleased that he has won. "Good to know. Let me know if you need anything, I'll be staying over for the night."

She nods, finally able to rest peacefully.

**Ta-da! Personally, my favorite chapter. Please read and review and yes I know this has taken forever for me to post. But now it is here for all of you to enjoy and I really hope that you all do! No flames.**


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